I’ve been meaning to blog for a while now. Maybe I should resolve to do it everyday, like flossing my teeth, or doing sit ups, or brushing the dog’s teeth, or going for a walk, or getting my work done vs. blogging…
Lately, I’ve been thinking about making a movie. A “real” movie. I took a trip three weeks ago, a quick trip, to AZ to see my little bro. My little brother, the one who used to wonder “Where’s my Amy?” when I went off to Kindergarten and left him at home, graduated from F-16 Fighter Pilot Training last month.
As a liberal pacifist woman who supports peace and protests war, I feel nothing short of absolute conflict. A war within myself perhaps. I am so tearfully proud of my brother and all of his accomplishments. In fact, I was in awe of him the whole weekend, and this lingers today. However, I couldn’t swallow my wine when toasting the President, I actually spit it back into my plastic glass. (The Air Force in notorious for hosting formal dinners where one dresses in black tie attire whilst eating sloppy joes with plastic forks).
Honestly. I’ve asked myself a lot, “How the hell am I related to this guy? He’s f!@#$%^&n brilliant. The guy decided when he was five years old that he wanted to fly fighter jets for the Air Force, and he’s doing it! Who does that?!?
Well, it was a pretty amazing and inspiring evening. I thought to myself, more than once, “this would make a great documentary, my brother, the weapon.” He told me I’d probably have to get some sort of governmental clearance.
Great.
My Arizona weekend getaway was also Posh’s first airplane ride. She did fabulously. Not a peep. I carried her on board the plane, where she road under the seat in her fancy tattoo inspired pet carrier from Pet Flys. It’s adorable, pictures to follow.
Once we got to Andy and Sharon’s (my sister in-law’s) house she was ready to play with their Yorkshire Terrier, Jessie. Jessie, being an “only child” wasn’t having it. I was just so darn tootin’ happy to be taking her out to pee in nice weather. What was I thinking getting a puppy in the middle of the MN winter?!
Everyday we practiced walking on a leash on our way to the local coffee house. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the shop. FYI the owners of this place are just wonderful. I can’t remember offhand what the place is called, but I will look it up. It is definitely worth a visit. As an ex barista/coffeehouse owner, I know my shit when it comes to good coffee houses. This place is A+.
So, my “brother the weapon” was honored with two extremely awesome awe-wards: “Top Gun-Air to Ground Combat” & “Distinctive Graduate.” I called Adam to let him know the good news. He was stunned, “So your brother is Tom Cruise?”
Yep.
For a major liberal bitch, I was moved to tears a few times during the ceremony. Especially, when they honored the M.I.A/P.O.W. folks by setting an empty place for dinner and reciting this:
This table set for one is small, symbolizing the frailty of the prisoners alone against their oppressors.
The tablecloth is white, symbolizing the purity of their intentions to respond to their country’s call to arms.
The single rose displayed in a vase symbolizes the families and loved ones who keep faith awaiting their return.
The yellow ribbon tied so prominently on the vase is reminiscent of the yellow ribbon worn on the lapel and breasts of thousands who bear witness to their unyielding determination to deman a proper accounting of our missing.
The slice of lemon on the bread plate reminds us of their bitter fate.
There is salt on the bread plate, a symbol of the families’ tears as they wait.
The glass is inverted, for they cannot toast with us this night.
The chair is empty, for they are not here.
My brother confessed that he too cried when he first heard this read. It’s one thing to read this on a blog, and another thing to be surrounded by men and women in uniform, listening to an officer read it aloud.
I won’t regret this trip to Arizona, my brother means the world to me. May we all pray for peace. My brother might be out of a job if that happens, but he makes a mean cabbage roll. I’m sure there’s a restaurant looking for a ex-fighter jet pilot who knows how to wield a chef’s knife around somewhere…
XOXO Little Brother!
